It's Not Your Fault
by 3mlm
Summary: Beth Childs oneshot of her thoughts on the platform and a bit of backstory.


Elizabeth Childs paced back and forth on the train platform. It was all too much. She had always been stable. Beth Childs, what a nice girl. Beth Childs, did you hear that she ran a marathon for charity? Beth Childs...

She never dreamed that that would change, never thought that her name would have a very different connotation. Beth Childs, she had so much promise. Beth Childs, did you hear that she shot someone? Beth Childs, they say her victim was unarmed. Beth Childs, they say she'll get away with it.

Nobody could understand how she felt. She could never share the horrible truth about Margaret Chen. Not with Art, Paul, or Alison. Alison Hendrix... that woman was no good for her, and she knew it. She had long gotten over the shock of seeing identical faces when she met Alison. The only surprise that she had received when she ran the facial recognition software was the fact that her genetic identical lived so close nearby. She knew that this one she would have to meet in person, unlike the scientist from the United States, so one day she called in sick at work and headed off to the address in Scarborough, with no idea what she was getting herself into.

She followed her clone around for a while, eventually parking herself along the street in the suburban neighborhood, hoping to catch Alison alone. The surprise, however, was for her when Alison approached her car on a neighborhood watch walk. She barely had time to slip a burner phone in the hands of the soccer mom before Alison dashed away from the car. She wouldn't have taken the risk if it weren't for the fact that Katja had told her that a few of the European clones thought that they were being stalked.

She was very surprised when she called the phone the next day and the suburban housewife actually answered. It wasn't easy talking to an angry Alison over the phone, and it took a week or so to finally have normal conversations.

Once she had finally gotten through to Alison, they had become tentative friends. Beth realized much too quickly that she wanted more, but she kept quiet, not wanting to sever the bonds of their already shaky relationship. She found herself making excuses to be around her uptight counterpart. She taught her how to shoot a gun, although she had to admit that her motivation might not have been completely pure. Obviously Alison needed to know how to protect herself, but within that obvious advantage, it gave Beth a chance to stand close to her to show her how to aim. She had an excuse to change the stance of the hips that were so similar to her own, yet so foreign, each time keeping her hand in place for a second longer than necessary. For a while she thought that they might have a chance together; that Alison might return her feelings. However that was when she fell in too deep into her secrets. She had been quietly conducting her own investigation on their condition, and then one day she found out everything that she wanted to know. That was a blow that she would never wish to be inflicted on her worst enemy. She knew that Alison could never be allowed to find out, so she broke contact with her, only communicating when absolutely necessary. It was obvious that Alison was hurt by her rejection, but there was nothing that she could do, so she forced herself to stay away.

Beth had nobody left to turn to, so she turned to something much more dire. She could feel her reliance on the prescriptions growing, but she couldn't stop. She was addicted to the numbness that the pills gave her. Her mind was freed from all the worries and emotions that got in the way of things. The news of Danielle's death hit all of the other clones very hard, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She could feel herself fading from life, from everything.

Paul was out of town, so she had gone on a trip. Just a flight of fancy. She took the subway out of town, not even thinking about the fact that all of her pills were at home. She felt them wear off. She didn't like it. She hated feeling. She would rather be kicked and punched and beaten then have these horrific emotions. She felt her brain clouding.

She paced on the platform, her breaths turning into soft sobs as she pulled out her pink cellphone. Everything was a reminder; Alison had been the one who insisted on matching phone cases, and of course was the one who picked them out. Oh God, Alison. When she looked into the mirror, that was all that she saw. No matter how many pills she took, she couldn't push away their connection. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make herself not love her. Tears blurred her vision as she typed in the familiar number. She knew it by heart. She typed it in every single day, though she rarely hit send. Today would be different though. Friday, Friday, Friday. She cleared the number, and typed in a new one. Alison took care of the kids every Friday. How many times had she heard her curse out Donnie for his end of the week meetings? She waited anxiously as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.

"You have reached the Hendrix household," the familiar voice said on the answering machine. "Please leave a message after the beep."

Beth's words caught in her throat as she was faced with a possibility that she had never imagined. "Hey Ali," she said shakily, trying to clear her throat as she talked. "I know... I know I haven't been around; haven't been the best friend. Ummm... I just wanted to say goodbye. And... I want you to know that it's not your fault. None of this is your fault Ali... and I... I love you... I just needed you to know that." She hung up her phone, knowing that it was time. She couldn't trust herself to not reveal the truth to Alison. There was only one way to keep her safe.

She set down her bag and took off her shoes and arranged them neatly on the platform next to it before pulling off her jacket and folding it up. Elizabeth Childs, always organized, even at her own death. She could hear the train coming from one direction. She turned around, her face no longer masked by indifference or false happiness, no longer even shocked to see a clone standing before her. A clone to see a clone die. She couldn't tell if it was funny, apt, or just fucking poetic, but she didn't care. She just stepped forward, welcoming death, thinking only of Alison, the woman that she would give anything to protect.

* * *

Back at the Hendrix household, Donnie walked into the house from where he and Alison had been playing with the kids in the yard. He noticed the light blinking on the answering machine and played the message. He listened to it through once, and then without another thought, deleted it.


End file.
